


Sick

by MaxWrite



Series: The Telepathy Series [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF, Telepathy, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-13
Updated: 2005-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins turn 17 and celebrate in their own special way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick

_Happy birthday, Big O,_ said a voice in his head. The voice wasn’t his own. It wasn’t part of his imagination or his subconscious. It belonged to someone else entirely.

He ignored the voice. He hated being called Big O.

He checked the clock. The bright green digital readout read exactly 2:17am. Thirteen minutes and counting.

 _So, Ollie,_ he thought to himself. _Congrats. You’re seventeen now. Made it through another year in one piece._

 _Seventeen’s nothing,_ said the voice that wasn’t his. _Eighteen’s something; you’re officially an adult then. Sweet sixteen’s something. Hell, even thirteen’s something, ‘cause it’s your first teenage year. But seventeen? Doesn’t mean a thing._

 _Could I please have a moment to myself?_ he thought back at the voice. _The next twelve minutes, at least._

 _Hey, if I was able to shut this off, don’t you think I would? I don’t fancy us being attached at the brain either, you know._

Oliver stared up at his bedroom ceiling. He was lying on his back in bed, and he knew that his identical twin, James, was doing the very same thing in his own room next door.

James. Oliver had always liked that name better than his own. Oliver. Who named their kid Oliver?

 _You know, it’s funny,_ James thought. _’Cause I’ve always preferred your name._

 _I wasn’t thinking to you,_ Oliver snapped.

 _Ooh, birthday boy’s touchy._

Oliver rolled his eyes. He and James had been able to communicate this way for as long as he could remember.

 _Sorry,_ Oliver thought.

 _Something on your mind?_

 _Like you have to ask. You already know._

 _Well, yeah, but I thought I’d be polite this time and actually ask before discussing it._

 _Humph. First time for everything, huh?_

 _I just don’t understand why this is different. I mean, okay, so I walked in on you while you were … um …_

 _Wanking off. Just think it, Jim. I. Was. Wanking. Off._

 _Right. Well, we can’ t get away from each other, right? We’re always mentally linked, so we’re with each other all the time, even when we’re in, um, compromising positions._

 _The problem is you walked in on me on purpose. You_ knew _what I was in there doing, how could you not? And then you act all shocked, like it was an accident._

 _Oh, what’s the difference? What’s so weird about actually walking in and seeing you that way, as opposed to being in your head while you’re doing it?_

 _You_ wanted _to see me that way._

 _Yes, and you_ always _want to see_ me _that way, you just never act on it… There’s something you’re not telling me._

 _That’s a crime now?_

 _Smart ass … Oh! I know what you’re thinking of,_ James thought, smirking into the darkness.

Oliver tried to stop it, tried not to think of the memory that was pushing its way to the surface of his consciousness.

“Dammit,” he said aloud, squeezing his eyes shut.

 _Oh, give it up,_ James thought. _It’s like trying not to think of elephants when someone says, “Don’t think of elephants.”_

 _… Why would someone ask me not to think of elephants?_

 _That’s not the poi … Forget it. Just let it come, Ollie. Now you’ve got me remembering it too, it’s gonna come anyway._

 _Oh, fine._

 

February 25, 1998, 2:30am

 _Happy birthday, Jimmy,_ Oliver thought. _Can you believe we’re finally twelve?_

 _Twelve’s nothing,_ James thought back. _Thirteen’s something, ‘cause it’s your first teenage year. Ten’s something, ‘cause it’s you first double digit year. But twelve? Doesn’t mean a thing._

 _Whatever. You tired?_

 _Nuh-uh._

They sat up in their beds at the same time and looked over at each other.

 _Do I look older?_ James asked.

 _What, older than you did ten seconds ago? Um, no, Jim, you don’t._

 _Just wondering._

 _D’you think we can risk talking out loud?_

James’s eyes rolled up and to the right as he listened for movement in the rest of the house.

 _Not sure,_ he finally declared. _Better not risk it. You know mum and her_ insomnia.

 _Insomnia, my ass. Midnight patrol is more like it._

 _Yeah. Hey, I got you something._

 _What?_

James hopped out of bed and padded across the carpet to his dresser.

 _Well, dad bought it, of course, but it was my idea,_ James explained, pulling something out of a drawer. He left the drawer open and trotted over to Oliver’s bed. He turned on Oliver’s bedside lamp and sat next to him.

 _Here,_ James thought, shoving a book into Oliver’s hands. _I forgot to wrap it._

It was a hardcover book, about the size of a placemat and as thick as a dime standing on its edge. It was glossy and eggplant purple all over, except for the gold lettering and the elaborate, colourful cover illustration of a fire-breathing dragon and what James assumed was a vampire.

Oliver’s jaw dropped. _You remembered …_

 _Yup._

 _But … You’ve never been interested in Role Playing Games. You always completely ignore those thoughts when I have them. And I only saw this book once months ago, and I couldn’t even remember what it was called._

 _Yeah, but you knew what it looked like, so I did too._

 _But, it’s been, like, seven months since we were in that comic book shop. You don’t know anything about RPG. I can’t believe you remembered._

 _Well, I’m not a complete idiot, you know._

Oliver looked up at his twin, into the mahogany brown eyes that matched his own. James was grinning, and Oliver grinned an identical grin right back.

 _Thank you, James._

 _Don’t get mushy. You call me ‘James’ when you’re getting mushy._

 _I have a gift for you too, but mum hid it, ‘cause, you know; you’re a big sneak._

 _Yeah,_ James thought with a smirk.

 _How ever were you able to hide this from me?_

 _Hey, you don’t have a telepathic link with someone for twelve years and not learn a thing or two about hiding things when you really need to. You’re hiding my present from me right now, after all._

 _Yeah, but you’ve never been any good at it._

 _I am when it matters. I just wanted to see the look on your face when I gave it to you._

 _Did I give you the expression you were hoping for?_

 _Yup. It was bang on._

They grinned at each other again. Then Oliver looked down at his book, a warm-fuzzy feeling coming over him, directed at James. It embarrassed him to feel this way. He was a boy – no, he was twelve now. He was a _guy._ And guys didn’t get the warm-fuzzies for other guys, not even family. For girls, yeah, but not for other guys.

 _You’re getting mushy,_ James said.

 _Sorry. Can’t help it._

Oliver knew it would happen. It always did when he was feeling particularly close to his brother. And piggybacking on the warm-fuzzy feeling was a thought. A fantasy(?). Whatever it was, it made him feel intense shame.

James looked down at his lap.

 _It’s okay, you know,_ he thought. _I have the same thought sometimes._

 _Not as often as I do. It’s not okay. It’s sick._

 _Yeah, but we’re both thinking it, so why don’t we just …_

Oliver looked over at him in shock.

 _Well, if we both want to!_ James thought defensively.

 _Jim …_

 _Have you ever kissed anyone?_

Oliver rolled his eyes. _You know I haven’t._

 _Well, now that we’re older and everything, maybe we should … practice a bit._

 _Practice? That’s just an excuse to do what we’re both thinking of doing._

 _Yeah … So, d’you want to?_

Oliver sighed, staring at James’s face. Was it weird to want to kiss someone, to want to touch someone you were so closely related to?

 _Course it’s weird,_ James thought. _So, d’you want to do it, or not?_

 _I wasn’t thinking to you!_

 _Close your eyes._

 _What?_

 _Just do it. Just sit there and don’t move. If I do everything, then none of it’s your fault, right?_

Oliver frowned. _I think your logic’s a little flawed._

 _Close your bloody eyes, will you?_

Oliver did so despite his misgivings.

The large book on his lap was removed. He heard it land with a muffled thud on the other bed. He felt the bed move as James shifted. Then everything went silent and still for an achingly long time. Oliver could hear his own heart pounding.

If not for their telepathic connection, Oliver would’ve thought that James had just played a very mean joke on him, and he wouldn’t’ve put it past James either. The thought did cross his mind for a split second; what if it was a joke? What if James was sitting there, stifling his laughter at Oliver’s stupidity, thinking Oliver was a total perv?

But of course Oliver knew that wasn’t the case.

Suddenly there was warmth near his face.

 _Should I open my mouth?_ he asked himself. James answered.

 _Yeah. Little bit._

And just as Oliver’s lips parted, James’s mouth was on his. Oliver took a breath in through his nose, took in his twin’s familiar scent.

 _Um,_ Oliver thought. _What now?_

 _We’re s’posed to move, I think._

 _Move?_

 _Yeah. Like this_.

James opened his mouth, pulling away from Oliver slightly, then came back down on his mouth, allowing the wetness within his own to touch his brother’s skin.

Oliver followed suit, still unsure of what he was supposed to do. But then their open mouths came together perfectly – Oliver’s bottom lip inside James’s mouth; James’s top lip inside Oliver’s – and it seemed they fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Oliver’s uncertainty began to dissolve.

 _Put your tongue in my mouth,_ James thought.

Oliver obliged. James sucked his tongue in and let out an involuntarily moan.

Oliver opened his eyes at the sound. So did James, who’d even started himself. They both saw each other looking and quickly snapped their eyes shut.

 _What was that noise for?_ Oliver asked.

 _I don’t know. It just … feels so good. Your tongue in my mouth, I mean._

 _Can I try?_

 _Sure._

Oliver took his tongue back and sucked James’s in. It undulated sensually in his mouth.

 _It does feel nice,_ Oliver thought. James’s reply was another moan. Then another and another. He seemed to enjoy probing as much as being probed.

Back and forth they went, their tongues entering and exiting and seeming to play fight with each other. James’s moans continued, and had an unexpected affect on Oliver; he stiffened inside his boxers, and he knew it was the sound of his twin’s pleasure that had done it.

 _I’m hard,_ he thought.

 _Me too. Can I touch you?_

Oliver reached forward and took hold of James’s wrist, so he could guide James’s hand to his crotch.

Something made him stop. He pulled away and looked down at James’s wrist.

 _Where’s your watch?_ he asked.

 _Lost it,_ James explained matter-of-factly. _While dad and I were shopping for you present._

 _You loved that watch._

 _Eh,_ James shrugged. _It’s not biggie._

Oliver could tell he was lying, trying to be cool, calm and careless, as usual.

 _It had Spider Man on it,_ Oliver thought.

 _I know._

 _It was so cool._

 _I know. It’s fine, just forget it._

 _I’m sorry, Jimmy._

 _Stop it, it’s not your fault … but thanks._

James smiled sweetly, unable to stop himself from doing so; he was beginning to feel a little warm and fuzzy himself.

Oliver reached up to brush James’s chestnut fringe to the side.

“Is it weird,” Oliver said aloud, gazing at James, “that I don’t think I’m cute, but I think you are?”

“Yes,” James said, aloud as well. “But I feel the same.”

Oliver’s index finger traced a line down James’s face, over his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, then his chin, where it fell off and slowly down. The entire hand came to rest on James’s knee.

“I like the way you smell,” Oliver whispered. “Always have.”

James smiled. “You’re an idiot,” he said. Then, rather timidly, he asked, “Kiss s’more?”

Oliver smiled back and nodded, moving towards his brother again, offering James his tongue. James took it and sucked it eagerly, as Oliver found his hand again and guided it to the hardness between his legs.

 

 _Happy birthday, Jim,_ Oliver thought as the twenty-nine on his digital clock turn into a thirty. _It’s officially your birthday now too._

He heard movement outside his door. He sat up. He watched as his doorknob turned and the door slowly opened.

James peeked inside, then slipped in and closed the door. Oliver reached over and turned on his lamp so he could see James properly as he approached Oliver’s bed. In the memory, they had been so small, faces so young, short, brown, mop-top haircuts. Now, as James walked toward him, he was just over six feet tall, with broader shoulders and a more grown up, yet still boyish face. The hair was the biggest change of all; a little longer now, flipping outward cutely just below his ears, and died a flattering shade of red.

James sat beside him, and he noticed that James was blushing.

“They’re asleep,” James said. “Mum and dad, I mean. I could hear them snoring when I was in the hall.”

“What’s the matter? You’re blushing.”

James shrugged. “That memory is just so … I dunno.”

James looked up at Oliver, his eyes wide and questioning.

“How come we never did that again?” he asked.

“Because it’s wrong, Jim.”

James shrugged again. “I’m okay with that.”

Oliver snorted and looked down at his lap, shaking his head.

“All right, I won’t pressure you,” James said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Hey, I can give you one of your presents now. Look in the top drawer there.”

Frowning and smiling, both at once, James turned toward Oliver’s bedside table and pulled the top drawer open. He found the little gift-wrapped box immediately. It was about the size of his palm. He brought it up to his ear and shook it.

“Is it a pony?” he asked.

“Just open it. And close my drawer. You’re always leaving things ajar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James said, absently pushing the drawer closed.

He tore the metallic blue paper off the velveteen covered box.

“You got me jewelry, didn’t you?” James said. “If you’re proposing, I swear to god I’m gonna smack you.”

He lifted the lid of the box and gasped at it’s contents. A broad smile spread across his lightly freckled face.

“Are you joking?” he asked, pulling out the Spider Man watch. He turned it over in his hands, examining it. “It’s exactly like the one I had!”

“I know.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Online. It’s vintage. Took forever to track it down.”

“Shut up! I can’t believe you remembered!”

Oliver shrugged. “Yeah, well …”

James looked at Oliver. “Your present is, um, being delivered in the morning.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows. “Delivered?”

“Yeah, well, now we’ve got the big time _Harry Potter_ money, thought I’d get you something really cool.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Oliver noticing how flustered James had become. That almost never happened.

“What’s the matter?” Oliver asked.

James put his watch aside and stared down at his hands, which were now wringing themselves in his lap.

“I just, um, feel really close to you right now, is all. God, I hate it when this happens.”

“Uh-oh. You’re not gonna get all mushy on me, are you?”

James smiled and elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up.”

Then James looked at him again, and now Oliver could see yearning in his soft brown eyes.

“That was so sweet of you,” James said.

“Forget it.”

“… I think I need to kiss you.”

“Jimmy …”

“Just close your eyes, okay, Ollie? Please … _Please.”_

Oliver hesitated.

“You want it too. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t.”

Oliver knew his face was mirroring his brother’s longing expression. He did want it and always had.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

He hadn’t kissed his brother since their twelfth birthday. That had been the one and only time they’d crossed that invisible line.

James’s scent filled Oliver’s nose and the heat from James’s skin touched Oliver’s face. Oliver was shaking slightly. He hoped James didn’t notice.

But his nervousness was evident to James; he could sense it. And when their noses touched, and Oliver jumped and gasped, James giggled.

“Twitchy thing, aren’t you?” James said.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ollie,” James whispered as he rubbed his long, pointed nose against his twin’s. “You know, we changed everything that night five years ago. Even though we didn’t actually do anything but kiss and touch a bit … We can never really go back, you know.”

Oliver swallowed again. “I know.”

“Yeah, so, I say … we go forward.”

Oliver drew in a shaky breath. He was about the exhale, but then James’s lips were on his, and he stopped breathing altogether.

James’s lips were more skilled now, but no less tentative, and Oliver realized James was trembling too.

They were all little pecks and gentle brushings of lips at first, but soon graduated to open mouths and soft licks. James opened up particularly wide, and Oliver took the opportunity to slide his tongue forward. James’s mouth closed around it, and James moaned.

It was the first time in five years that Oliver had heard his brother do that, and it had the very same affect on him that it had had the first time. He opened his eyes just as James did. The kiss slowed a little as they gazed at each other, neither one blinking or slamming their eyes shut this time.

They surveyed each other as they kissed.

 _Do we have something to prove here?_ James thought.

 _Yes. That we can look each other in the eye when we do this. Otherwise, we’re not doing it at all._

 _I think we’re doing pretty well, wouldn’t you say?_

Oliver considered. He stared into James’s eyes and kissed him more passionately. James emitted another moan, and then another as Oliver took him by his waist and pulled him close. Neither one looked away.

Oliver broke the kiss and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I would say.”

James smiled at him. “Now where were we?” he asked. “Five years ago, I mean.”

“Well,” Oliver said, taking James’s hand. “I believe your hand was right here.” And he placed James’s hand between his legs.

“Well, that got a bit bigger, didn’t it?” James smirked, cupping his brother’s bulge. “Actually, I think my hand was …” and James slid his hand into Oliver’s pajama pants, “… right there.”

Oliver leaned back on his hands and looked down as James gripped his shaft inside his pants.

“What? You want me to take these off?” James asked, hearing Oliver’s thoughts and gesturing toward his own pants.

“Well,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes. “You could, if you wanted to.”

James took his hand back, stood up and pulled the drawstring waist of his blue plaid cotton pants out away from his pelvis so he could lower it past his protruding cock.

Oliver stared at it. It matched his own almost exactly; long and thin and red and very obviously aching for attention.

Oliver repositioned himself so he was lying on his side, facing James, propped up on his elbow, and he beckoned for James to join him. James did so, lying on his back, head on the pillow. Oliver brought his mouth down to meet his brother’s again, while reaching down for James’s leaking cock.

 _I think about sucking you off all the time,_

 _I know you do. It’s quite the distraction while we’re in school or at the dinner table, you know._

 _Sorry._

 _Don’t apologize. Just do it. Do what you’ve been fantasizing about all this time._

Oliver stopped kissing him and looked down at the glistening head sticking out of his fist. He moved down to it, crawled in-between James’s long legs, and gave the head a lick. He was quite pleased to hear James suck in a breath above him. He lapped at the head, his tongue moving all around it, and he watched James as he did so.

 _Take your shirt off,_ Oliver instructed.

James sat up, pulled his white t-shirt up and over his head, dropped it to the floor and laid back down.

Oliver ogled his brother’s long, narrow torso; pale and freckled, flat and smooth, just like his own. James’s dark brown nipples stood out, hard and begging to be touched. James reached up and touched them himself as Oliver took him all the way in to the back of his throat. Oliver salivated involuntarily down James’s shaft as he watched James tickle his own nipples and arch his back.

James’s eyes were closed. Oliver thought he looked like an angel. He still found it odd that he didn’t see himself the same way. Perhaps it had something to do with James’s personality, so different from his own. Oliver was your typical type A; rigid and organized, regimented and picky, and with a tendency to fidget. James was the opposite; laid back and cool, free-spirited and easy, and with a breezy air about him that Oliver had always envied. And his smile was different. His smile matched his personality; easy, breezy and dazzlingly perfect.

James was moaning more frequently now, and his pale chest was heaving. He reached down and pushed Oliver’s head away.

“You’re gonna make me come too soon,” he whispered.

Oliver slinked up James’s body and went for his mouth again.

 _Can you taste yourself?_ Oliver thought.

“Mm-hmm,” James moaned aloud.

 _You taste amazing, James._

 _Let me taste you now. Get up here. Stick it in my face._

Oliver obeyed, straddling his brother’s torso and removing his prick from inside his pants. James sighed heavily upon seeing it and licked his sweet, pink lips.

“God, you’re hot,” Oliver said as he watched James close his eyes and open his mouth. He laid there with his tongue protruding just a little, awaiting his brother’s entry. Oliver moved forward, placed his head on James’s waiting tongue. James closed his mouth around it and began to suck.

Oliver didn’t even want to enter James’s mouth all the way. The sight of James suckling on the head of his cock was too beautiful. He stroked James’s hair, then slid his hands around to the back of James’s head, lifting it slightly and cradling it in his hands so James could have easier access to his pulsing member.

James brought his hands up and cupped each of Oliver’s ass cheeks. He then pulled Oliver’s pajama pants down off his bottom and raised a hand to Oliver’s face.

 _Lick my finger,_ he thought.

Oliver took two of James’s fingers into his mouth and got them good and wet. Then James went straight for his hole.

“Mmmm,” Oliver exhaled as James’s finger slid into him.

James pushed Oliver’s head out of his mouth and said, “You should be preparing me, though, shouldn’t you?”

“What? Oh! Right. ‘Cause you’d like me to …”

“Fuck me, yes, I want you to. You know I’ve always wanted you to.”

“Hang on.”

Oliver jumped up out of bed and raced to the door. He opened the door a crack and peeked out into the dark hallway. When he was sure the coast was clear, he darted out of the room, closing the door behind him. He returned less than a minute later with a bottle in his hand.

“Mum’s baby oil?” James said in disbelief. “You went into the bathroom in their _room?”_

“I like the way this stuff smells,” Oliver shrugged.

“But … mum uses that stuff on her cuticles! Doesn’t it seem a bit … I dunno, _weird_ using it to … well …”

“I think it’s kind of kinky. Mum’s baby oil. It’s just so wrong, you know?”

James smirked. “I had no idea you were so dirty ... Wait … yeah I did.”

Oliver slicked the oil onto his fingers and inserted two into James. James, his legs spread, knees in the air, wriggled around, reached down, took hold of Oliver’s arm and guided it back and forth.

Oliver took the hint. He got up on his knees and free hand for better leverage, and began slamming his fingers into James repeatedly.

James grunted loudly on the first few slams.

“Shhh, Jimmy. You’re gonna wake up mum and dad.”

“But it feels so good. Stick another finger in there, would you?”

Oliver did so, and was very happy to see the affect it had on James; he let out a series of breathy little moans and began to play with his cock.

“Now, Ollie,” James breathed after a few minutes. “It’s time. Right now.”

He reached up and pulled Oliver’s face down to his own for a deep, hot kiss.

Oliver positioned himself between James’s legs, his mouth never leaving his brother’s.

 _I need it now,_ James repeated in his mind.

 _Are you sure? You’ve never been fucked before._

 _I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Inside me, Ollie. Please.”_

James stopped kissing Oliver, and saved him the trouble of lubricating his cock by doing it himself. He sat up, poured some of the sweetly scented oil into his hands and warmed it by rubbing his palms. He then placed his palms on Oliver’s shaft and massaged the oil all over it.

Oliver sat back on his knees as James did this and watched James’s hands stroke him lovingly. He was oddly touched by this, by how tender James was being. ‘Loving’ and ‘tender’ weren’t words Oliver would normally associate with his friendly, yet often aloof twin brother.

 _I’m sorry about that,_ James thought. _That I have a tendency to push you away, I mean. And I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I wouldn’t shut off our telepathic connection if I could. I swear I wouldn’t._

 _I know, Jimmy. Shh, it’s okay._

Oliver took James’s hands, removed them from his penis.

 _Lie down, Jimmy,_ he thought. That’s it, baby. Sure you’re ready?

James raised his legs and stared lustily up at Oliver, his smile coy, yet somewhat shy.

Oliver leaned over him, pushed against his slick, hot entrance. The head of his cock slid inside.

James bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Stop!_ he screamed in his mind. Oliver froze.

 _Oh, my god. I’ll take it out …_

 _Don’t move! Just … just stay right there. Just don’t move … Kiss me._

Oliver leaned over further and shoved his tongue into James’s mouth. Again, James moaned around his tongue, and he probed further in, giving James as much of his tongue as he could. He could feel James’s tight little hole convulsing slightly around him.

 _Okay,_ James thought. _I’m ready. Go._

Oliver pushed in further. James whimpered, but didn’t seem to want Oliver to stop. Oliver slid in all the way, and suddenly James gasped.

 _What?_ Oliver thought, panicked.

James smiled up at him.

“Nothing,” he said aloud. “It’s just my prostate.”

Oliver smiled with relief. “Oh.”

“Now, fuck me, Ollie,” James demanded breathily.

Those words and the way James had said them and the feeling of James’s hands on his back and James’s legs on either side of him, made Oliver’s cock twitch. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in. James gasped again and again as his sweet spot was gently caressed.

 _Faster,_ James thought. And as Oliver fucked him harder, James closed his eyes and let his mouth hang open as he groaned.

 _Harder,_ he thought, and Oliver began to pound him.

James pushed Oliver’s waistband down as far as he could; he wanted to hear Oliver’s skin slapping against his own. He used his toes to push the pants down all the way to Oliver’s ankles, and was rewarded with the _slap, slap, slap_ of his brother’s body against his.

James opened his eyes. Oliver’s were closed now. James gazed at him, watched him closely. His face was taking on a sexy, dewiness, and his skin was rosy with his lust and effort.

 _Come down,_ James thought. _Lie on top of me._

Oliver lowered himself at the same time as James was pulling him down. Oliver laid on top of him, but kept himself propped up on his elbows. He opened his eyes, and looked into James’s. Their twin mahogany eyes locked, and each could see everything within their chocolate depths; their passion, their love, and their need.

But soon, James’s eyes rolled away from Oliver’s, took on a dazed, unfocused look. Oliver, sensing what his brother was feeling, knew James was in absolute ecstasy.

“I’ve wanted to see you this way for so long,” Oliver said, fucking James harder.

James gasped and groaned, turning his face up, away from Oliver’s, exposing his long, pale neck.

“You like that, eh?” Oliver said.

“Yes!” James cried, clawing Oliver’s lower back.

Oliver stopped abruptly, pulled out and got up on all fours again.

 _Flip over,_ he thought.

James, panting heavily, rolled onto his stomach. He took the pillow out from under his head and placed it beneath his pelvis, raising his ass up a little higher for his brother, and he spread his legs.

Oliver looked down at his brother’s ass. With his legs spread like that, his cheeks were parted nicely, and Oliver could see James’s little pink hole, shining with oil and waiting for him. Only him.

He pushed inside again, and this time, James’s gasp was one of pleasure, not pain. James pushed back against Oliver’s cock and squirmed into him, and Oliver fucked him just as hard as before.

The slap of skin on skin was more pronounced this time, as Oliver’s bony pelvis met James’s taut thighs and round cheeks again and again. The slapping was so loud, James asked, “D’you … think they … can hear us?” between groans.

“I don’t fucking care!” Oliver growled, and went for James’s neck, sucking and biting ravenously.

“Oh, that’s it,” James growled back. “We’ve waited far too long for this. We’ve wanted this for so … fucking … long … Ollie! Fuck, I love you!”

James slid his hand underneath himself so he could stroke his own painfully hard erection.

Oliver pushed his fingers into James’s hair, pushed the hair from his ear, brought his mouth to it and said in a low rumble, “I’m in love with you, James. I’ve always been in love with you. Is that sick? That I’m in love with my brother?”

“Yes,” James answered in an equally deep and lusty voice. “We _are_ sick. The both of us. We’re fucking perverts.”

Oliver felt his cock twitch again; hearing his brother speak that way was an intense turn-on.

“What are we?” Oliver asked. “Say it again. Tell me again.”

“We’re perverted. You know we are. It doesn’t get much more dirty and depraved than this.”

And Oliver didn’t have to announce the arrival of his orgasm. The twins had always been able to tell when the other was about to come when they’d masturbated in completely separate locations. And now, in such close proximity, physically connected the way they were, the ability seemed even stronger. Oliver’s climax hit James as well, sending faint waves of pleasure throughout his body. It triggered his own climax, and he shot his load all over his hand and the bed beneath him.

For a few glorious seconds, their orgasms overlapped, and the whole world seemed to be wiped clean. There was nothing else in the universe except the two of them and their shared pleasure.

It was all too much for James to bear in silence. His own orgasm, plus the added intensity from his brother’s, and the sensation of Oliver filling him with cum, pushed him past his breaking point, and the room filled up with his uncontrolled screams.

As much as he loved hearing his brother vocalizing his ecstasy like that, Oliver knew it just wouldn’t do. With his own orgasm finished, he lay still on top of James, kissed his neck and clamped a hand over his mouth. James continued to scream into Oliver’s hand. Oliver enjoyed the muffled sound almost as much as the full-on screaming, and loved the way James’s body convulsed beneath him.

Then James fell silent. His tremors stopped. His body went limp.

Oliver pushed himself up.

“Roll over,” he said.

James groaned at the effort it took to force himself onto his back; he was drained. Oliver laid on top of him again.

“Oh, we are definitely doing that again soon,” James panted.

Oliver nodded. “Absolutely. Now that I’ve tasted you … I can’t go back.”

With a sudden seriousness that frightened Oliver a little, James replied, “Neither of us can. This is what we are, you know. It’s what we’ve always been. We’ve just opened up the floodgates. There’s no turning back.”

Oliver knew he was right. They were lovers now, and even if the sex stopped, they could never return to being just plain old brothers ever again.

“I’m lying in my own wet spot,” James complained. “Let’s go sleep in my room. You can sneak out later.”

They got up. James quickly stepped into his pajama pants, grabbed his new watch and, taking Oliver by the hand, he led him from the room.

They lay together in James’s bed, beneath his covers, face to face, watching each other, eyes wide in the darkness, pupils sucking in as much moonlight as possible.

 _We’re in love with each other,_ Oliver thought.

 _We have been for a long time,_ James thought back.

 _We are a little sick, aren’t we?_ Oliver asked.

 _… Yes,_ James replied, reaching for Oliver’s hand. _And I wouldn’t have it any other way … Happy birthday, Ollie._

 _Happy birthday, Jim._

END


End file.
